


The Hedgehog's Dilemma

by Hollywood_Recycle_Bin



Series: The Game Verse [4]
Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, Dubious Consent, Episode Related, M/M, Mind Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-07
Updated: 2010-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-01 16:49:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollywood_Recycle_Bin/pseuds/Hollywood_Recycle_Bin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan makes his move, he plays to win, plans to do whatever it takes, but can he? Spoilers for Bonfire of the Vanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Victory

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my wonderful beta readers: Author07 (who checked my grammar and language) and novak_fan who checks my characterization.

“So tell me Daniel, do you think the apple fell far from the tree?” Chuck asked; voice husky and teasing. “Technique wise, I mean.” He added and Dan could feel the smirk against his neck, just as surely as he could feel the dick pushed inside of him.

It had been over a week since Dan began tailing Chuck’s father at work; three hours since he’d finally hit his big break with his ‘deep throat’ giving him the scoop on Bart Bass the arsonist... And one hour since the fight with his father over everything and now here he was again, back in Chucks bed, pretending he wasn’t about to ruin him, his family and everything else around him.

 _Who knew this day would turn out to be such a busy day?_ He thought bitterly to himself. 

“I don’t know _Charles_ ,” Dan eventually replied, equally mocking, even as his naked body arched instinctively against Chuck’s. “Maybe we should get the both of you in here right now and compare notes.”

You’d love that wouldn’t you, Humphrey?” he retorted, almost breathlessly. ”Two Basses at the same time. Both of us touching you? Maybe we could even both fuck you at the same time. In the same hole. I bet a little slut like you can take it.”

The words were disjointed; the thrust of his body interrupting the usual smooth flow of Chuck’s poisonous words. Dan almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. Their stupid little game with each other. Still, Dan wasn’t willing to lose, no matter how hard it is to make a witty comeback, mid fuck.

“Are you sure it’s not you who wants that Chuck?” Dan threw back as viciously as someone taking it up the ass could. “After all, it has been a while since you and your father spent quality time together.” There was a growl loud in his ear and Dan knew he was winning – again.

“Unless of course, you’re afraid that if I’m there, he’d pay more attention to me than he does to you.” Another growl and Chuck’s hands tighten its grip, his nails digging in as he pushed himself deeper inside of him; the thrusts becoming harder and quicker.

Dan gave out a cruel laugh, just as they came. The sound was manic and sharp, cutting at both of them. He lay back down on the bed, spent, with Chuck on top of him.

The laughter didn’t stop.

“Dan” Chuck said softly as the other boy shook underneath him. The laughter was slowly breaking, sounding more and more like sobs and somehow it hurt Chuck even more to hear it.

Dan squeezed his eyes shut tight, willing his tears away as he broke down in front of his enemy; body still shaking as he felt soft hands on his face. The caress was familiar, but the sentiment wasn’t. The touch was gentle and careful, without a hint of mockery or malice behind it. He opened his eyes again to stare into the face of someone he almost didn’t recognize.

Gone was the snarling, growling animal that fucked him, the devious trickster that played him like a puppet; the snake that poisoned his soul. It wasn’t even that boy he saw that night in jail, vulnerable and lost and waiting for his father to notice him. Instead it was that man, the one he saw so brief a glimpse of before. The mysterious yet open one, with deep and sad eyes. He looked right into Dan’s soul, and Dan had to look away.

“Dan” he said again. Despite the softness of the tone, Dan could still hear a desperate edge to it.

“Are you ok?” he asked. Still gentle.

The insane laughter threatened to bubble out of him again, but he forced it down. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself if he started again, so he turned back to face Chuck. This time he looked him right in those dark eyes, trying to see if he can look into his soul right back.

What he saw there stunned him.

“I didn’t know you cared.” Dan said, just as quietly. There was no taunting in his voice, just mild wonder at the simple statement of fact.

Still, Chuck flinched. The denial was on the tip of his tongue but it was already too late. He knew it’d make him look even weaker so he didn’t say it. Just let the silent hang in the room, too wrapped up in confusion to do anything else. He was too torn. Torn between this strange sudden need to make sure Dan was alright and his own need to keep Dan out, to not show any weakness in front of him and let him know, that despite everything, he’d still managed to worm his way under Chuck’s skin.

That it was in fact, Dan who had conquered Chuck. Not the other way around.

Chuck hated himself for that, for leaving himself open, being vulnerable once again. He didn’t know how Dan always managed to do that. Even Blair didn’t get in this deep.

He was tempted to send Dan away again. Kick him out on his ass, with his rumpled clothes and crumbled dignity but he found that he couldn’t this time. Not after what he just saw. It was strange. He should be glad to see Dan finally break like this. See him come apart; unravel at the seams and cracking, shattering at his feet. The proud and righteous Saint Dan was finally broken.

It’s what he’d planned all along, and yet...

It hurt. Seeing Dan shaking under him, on the verge of tears. Knowing he was the cause of it... It hurt.

The silence dragged on for a long time, until Dan looked at the clock.

“I have to go.” It was Dan’s turn to speak softly now. There was a hint of guilt in his voice that Chuck barely caught.

Chuck didn’t know if it was for making him feel for Dan, or whatever it was he was planning with his father. Still, it served to remind him of his reality. He was Charles Bartholomew Bass. He wasn’t Dan Humphrey and he couldn’t afford to let go like this. To let his guard down and let someone like Dan in. Someone he turned Dan into anyway. This wasn’t the Dan Humphrey that was in jail with him that night. This one was much more dangerous.

Once he tucked his messy feelings back inside himself, he took out his phone and made a few calls.

There was a game Humphrey was playing with him and right now he was three steps behind.

But not for long.

 

***

 

Getting out of the biohazard zone, known to most of New York as ‘cabs’, Chuck came to the conclusion that stalking, really wasn’t for him. There were very good reasons why he usually hired people to do his stalking for him (that’s what private investigators are for after all) and he berated himself for not remembering those reasons.

But then, Dan Humphrey did have a tendency to mess with his head...Which is how he’d gotten himself into this mess in the first place.

Still, what’s done is done and he was here now, after being stuck in traffic for what felt like forever, tailing Dan in his own moving biohazard zone (he’d been tempted to take one of his less fancy cars but he didn’t want to risk it). He just hoped that it was worth the effort when he saw Dan’s cab stop in front of one of the many tall, moderately elegant yet anonymous buildings.

A scruffy looking old man greeted Dan chummily. He had a greyish-white beard that covered half of his face but Chuck could still see his sly smile. Dan’s returning greet was cordial but much more guarded. There was coldness there in his smile, and Chuck was amazed to see the change in him, from the openness and vulnerability he saw in his bedroom, to the person Dan is now in front of this man he so obviously didn’t trust.

Still, Dan walked into the building with him and disappeared from Chuck’s sight. Chuck was tempted to follow him further, but his better judgement finally came around. Dan might not have noticed him following him from his hotel, but he’d certainly notice if Chuck was in the building with him, especially if he wasn’t supposed to be.

Besides, Chuck thought he might have all the clues he needed to finally figure out the puzzle. There were only so many reasons someone like Dan Humphrey would be having a meeting with the editor of New York Magazine after all.

***

His father was away.

Another important business trip, one that couldn’t wait, and couldn’t be interrupted. Another unanswered phone call for his only son.

Chuck shouldn’t be surprised though. That’s how it’s always been isn’t it? Still, you’d think the one time Chuck actually does have something important to tell him, he’d actually be there. It’s not often that his dad’s the one in trouble instead of him.

Trouble from Dan Humphrey.

From the sweet face and puppy dog eyes that lied like a pro. Chuck shouldn’t be surprised of course; he’d always known Dan is a good liar. The honest face helps, along with that irritating air of integrity he always carried about him that never went away, even after they’d started fucking.

It makes people _want_ to trust him. Chuck should know; he’d been the victim of that himself that time.

Not that he’d ever categorized himself as a victim of anything.

Of course, he’d never actually thought in a million years that someone like _Dan Humphrey_ would actually go this far to get his revenge. Would actually try and destroy not just Chuck but his father too, and maybe even his company and newfound family, if whatever it was Dan had gotten out of his father was that good... that damaging.

He really underestimated Dan this time. Underestimated the man he’d become.

Chuck still couldn’t quite believe he’d let his guard down in front of him like that. It didn’t matter that Dan was the one to do it first. Dan was supposed to be the victim. He was supposed to break down, eventually, and Chuck, he was supposed to celebrate, drink in the victory because he’d _finally won_... Instead he let Dan Humphrey get to him. _Again!_ And this time its worse because Dan might have shown his weakness too, but he’d only lost one pawn. His queen was already posed for victory while Chuck had been too busy playing checkers. 

 

He’d really been blind this time. He thought maybe his previous assumption had been right, that Dan Humphrey was an infection, one he should have gotten rid off a long time ago before it spread but he didn’t. Instead he kept it around until it found its way into the rest of his body, into his brain; made him feverish and sick, out of touch with reality... Delirious.

Delirious; seemed like the right word for it. He thought back to the sight of Dan shaking underneath him, the jagged edged laugh and tearless sobs. The lost look in his eyes. He thought back to the mess he made before that. Dan; naked and crumpled on the floor with bruises on his skin; he still had the ridiculous urge to hold him; to save him even now, knowing that Dan was far from helpless and million miles away from innocent.

He was going to lose this game. He was going to lose utterly and completely. He had no immunities against Dan Humphrey.

He took another swig of his scotch. He had intended on facing his father tomorrow without a hangover, but sobriety really wasn’t working for him right now.

When the glass was empty Chuck threw it at a wall. It gave a satisfying crash and Chuck watched as the pieces shatter and scattered, sharp and broken and all over the floor.

Chuck thought he knew how it felt. 

 

***

 

Bart Bass didn’t return from his business trip until Sunday evening. Dan was already there at the door, waiting for his return with a distressed look on his face. His fingers were fidgeting with the edges of his scarf again and there was nervous bounce to his step as he followed the man in.

He’d been this way for the past two days. Ever since he walked out of that meeting with James Wolf, or maybe even after he walked out of Chuck’s bedroom. He’d been on edge, lost, and conflicted; thought after thought forming and crashing into each other even as he tried not to think, his stomach doing summersaults as he waited and waited for Bart Bass to return home.

He thought it’d be easier for him when Bart Bass got home. Then he wouldn’t have to think anymore, for once he would just do. Do exactly what he’d been planning to do, finally get it all over and done with. Finally win his game with Chuck Bass, once and for all.

His only chance to bring him down.

And then, there’d be no more Dan Humphrey, the whore. Dan Humphrey, the victim. No more begging and pleading and endless humiliation and shame. No more mind games and bruises to hide, no more messy, tangled emotions messing with his head.

No more almost romantic dinners and hours of playful bantering. No more side way glances and knowing smirks that hid a warm smile.

He pushed that last thought out of his head. Now wasn’t the time to lose focus. If he got this, he has it made. An article in the New Yorker, and then even if he had to change schools it wouldn’t matter because St. Jude’s would be no more. He would have brought them all down. That system; all of those kids at school who didn’t think he was good enough for them.

He would really win this time.

And with his courage screwed to the sticking place, Dan took a deep breath and looked Bart Bass in the eye.

“I’m sorry to bother you at home sir,” he said and there was still an anxious edge to him. It worked in Dan’s favour though, since it made him seem sincere and concerned.

“What was it you wanted to speak to me about?” Bart asked and Dan could tell by his voice that he was taking Dan seriously, not just humouring him.

“Something strange happened while I was at your office... I overheard this guy talking about you to an employee. He said... He said that you were responsible for a fire, in one of your own buildings.”

Bart’s face paled slightly. Like his son he was good at hiding his immediate reaction, at showing as little weakness as possible, but Dan was already used to that Bass trick and he caught it easily enough.

“He mentioned insurance money and a whole bunch of other stuff as well. He had a lot of details,” Dan continued, mask of sincerity on his face showing his concern. “I figured there must be some kind of explanation. If it even happened, which I’m sure it didn’t,” he added quickly, nervousness shining through but once again, aiding his cause.

He sighed and once again looked Bart straight in the eye, face serious. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, I’m sorry, but...He was so insistent, I figured, if he was telling people at work, he could be telling other people too.”

Bart looked haunted. The horror dawning on his face and he paled even more. A familiar look of guilt flashed over his eyes and Dan thinks he might be the only person in the world to witness this many Bass’ feeling that emotion.

“So it’s out,” he said, looking older than he ever had. “I’ve had that man’s death on my conscious for twenty years.”

Dan felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor, like all the air had been sucked out his lungs.

“Someone died?” he asked, voice sounding small. For a split second, images flashed across his mind. Reporters and cameras, hunting Chuck like hounds. Protesters in front of Bass Industries, throwing things at the family as they tried to leave the building.

Handcuffs snapping on Bart Bass. The look on Chuck’s face as his father was led away by the police.

Dan didn’t get the chance to react though, as Chuck barged into the room. The fear and panic written clear on his face.

He had heard everything.

“Dad! Don’t say anything else!” He put himself between Dan and his father, as if that would somehow protect him. “He’s writing a story for a magazine,” he stated with certainty; all the while doing his best to reel in the raw emotions, but failing as it shone through his eyes.

Bart was doing a better job of controlling himself though. In the breath second he had gone from a defeated man to one that’s all business. Emotions wiped clean from his face, replaced instead with a quiet, almost dangerous determination.

“What’s it gonna cost to make this go away?”

It was a question that Dan suspected Bart used often in his life. Dan answered with an equally familiar line.

“I don’t want your money.”

And it was true. Bass money was dangerous. He’d seen what it could do, what it had done, what people do for it. What it did to him... And now this was it. The time he could finally walk away, be free from it. He knew money was never really the big issue though. No, the problems between him and Chuck, between him and the Basses, the cost of it, the price of the game, of winning and losing and just playing, all of it cost a whole lot more than just money.

And now was the time to finally claim victory, because he had won. He’d gone up against the Basses and won.

Somehow that didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, he felt sick; claustrophobic and he thought he really needed to clear his head right now.

He left the room in a hurry. Strangely enough nobody tried to stop him. There were no bodyguards or guys with guns ready to ambush him. No one to threaten him to keep his silence.

He stepped solemnly into the elevator, the door almost closing before a familiar voice called his name. It sounded cracked and uncertain. Maybe not that familiar then...

“If you use this against my father, I will destroy you.” The threat seemed empty, especially when Dan could hear the fear that laced through it.

“You’ve already destroyed everything I believed about myself. What else can you possibly do to me Chuck?” The words came out more defeated than spiteful, yet somehow it struck its target harder that way and Dan could see Chuck’s thin mask crumble under the weight of gnawing guilt.

Under it was that boy again, the lost one he’d seen before. He wasn’t looking for his father anymore though; instead he was looking right at Dan, his pain showing clearly through as paper thin armour cracked beyond repair and feelings, overwhelming, messy and anarchic, spilt everywhere in front of him.

A tear slipped down the other teen’s face.

Dan resisted the urge to reach out and wipe it away.

“Please.”

One syllable, barely whispered, barely heard. It’s message, loud and clear.

Dan’s victory trophy.

Somehow, it didn’t satisfy him like he thought it would.

“Please don’t do this,” Chuck begged again and Dan couldn’t look this time; couldn’t hear those familiar words and see the proud Chuck Bass fall to his knees, even if he was the one who brought him there.

The elevator door slowly crawled shut. Chuck didn’t try to stop him from leaving.

Dan pretended it didn’t bother him that he broke Chuck Bass that much.

 

***

 

“I’ve had that man’s death on my conscious for twenty years.”

Click. Rewind. Repeat.

Dan couldn’t let go of the recorder in his hand. He’d been playing it over and over again for the past twenty minutes and it only served to make his mind more muddled than ever.

Someone died.

This thing just got a whole lot bigger than he ever thought it would. Bigger than himself, and Chuck. Bigger than their games. Bigger than his debut article.

He thought back to the look on Chuck’s face. The guilt and fear he saw there. He wondered if Chuck was blaming himself for this, the way blamed himself for his mother’s death.

This was bigger than Chuck, he told himself again. Still struggling over what to do next. He thought back to the old Dan Humphrey, the one from before that night when he stepped into Chuck’s world. That Dan Humphrey always tried to do the right thing.

But what was the right thing here?

He’d always complained about rich people always getting away with everything because they the money to. And here he is, with the fate of some of the richest people in this city in the palm of his hands. Can he really let Bart Bass get away with murder? Even if it was unintentional.

And what if he didn’t let Bart get away with it?

Then he’d have his story published in New York magazine; making a name for himself even before he got into college. And he would have won against Chuck Bass, against that whole system. He would have proven himself, to them and the world.

And Chuck would lose completely. His family, his school, everything he knew.

It was what he’d been planning all along.

So why did it seemed so different now that the reality of it was staring at him in the face?

 

***


	2. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some things more important than winning... And there are far worse things to be than Chuck Bass' bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to Author07 who beta read so many of my fics

“Humphrey!” Vanessa called again, waving her hand in front of Dan’s face. “Are you with me?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m just, distracted today,” Dan said lifelessly as Vanessa sat down next to him.

“Today? Dan, you’ve been _‘distracted’_ for months.” Vanessa gave him a look that was part concern, part annoyance and it was so normal, so achingly familiar that it made Dan nostalgic.

“You noticed huh?” Dan said before stabbing at the food in front of him again. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to stab Chuck, himself or the world in general.

“Dan.” she called his name again, trying her best to catch his eyes. She sighed when Dan kept on torturing the food and refused to look her in the face.

“Listen, Dan, I know I haven’t been the best BFF lately, what with Nate living with you and me avoiding him before and all, but... you know I’m still here for you right?”

That got Dan’s attention, and he finally turned to face her. He gave her a tired smile.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just... Things have been... complicated, lately.”

“Complicated? Sounds Upper East Side related,” she said with a half smile, urging him to continue.

Dan sighed and finally caved. He’d been keeping this whole thing to himself for far too long and it showed. He was worn around the edges, cracked and maybe even broken. He was in so completely over his head and the weight of it all was becoming too much for him. Having someone around, someone who knew the whole story, no matter how shameful it is, might actually do some good. And hey, it was Vanessa! His Vanessa, his best friend since kindergarten, the one before Serena, before the Upper East Side and all of that mess; the one who stood by him for years, no matter what happened. If there was one person in the world he could share all this mess with, it was her.

“Alright,” he decided, “I’ll tell you what’s going on, but we gotta get drinks first because the conversation we’re about to have is not one I can do sober.”

***

“Have you ever been in a relationship where you hurt the person you’re with, and then they hurt you and then you hurt them again and it never ends even though you think that maybe one of you cares about the other but somehow can’t help yourself?” The question was asked in Dan’s usual, confusing, run-on-sentence style of speech. He had had a few drinks in him and unlike most of the Upper East Side; Vanessa knew that Dan was never one who could hold his liquor very well.

Still, the style of the speech was familiar, and Vanessa felt a small wave of nostalgia hit her. It had been a while since she and Dan had a heart to heart.

The topic of the speech was different than usual though.

“I can’t say I’ve ever been in a relationship like that,” she answered. “But it sounds very ‘Chuck and Blair’”

That got Dan laughing for some reason.

“Sorry, it’s just ironic, that’s all.” he explained without really explaining. Then a thought occurred to her.

“Oh my god! Dan, you’re not sleeping with Blair are you?”

“No!” he denied before taking another swig of his drink.

He didn’t give Vanessa much time to be relieved by his answer though for as Vanessa took a sip of her own drink, he finally blurted out, “I’m sleeping with Chuck.”

There was a spray across the kitchen counter. Dan resisted the urge to laugh but couldn’t hold back a smile. This may not be the easiest conversation to have, but it was still sort of a ridiculous one.

His smile disappeared when Vanessa finally turned to face him, grey eyes dark and serious.

“I know. It’s repulsive,” Dan said and she could see shame written in the way his shoulders slouched and he avoided her eyes.

“No! Dan, it’s not repulsive,” she said almost automatically, trying her best to sound comforting. “It’s just a little bit.”

“Vile? Revolting? Abhorrent? Odious?”

“Ok, fine! We’ll stick with repulsive.” She said as she rolled her eyes. There was a small smile on her face but she knew a diversion when she saw one. Dan was doing that whole, hiding behind a joke thing again but he should know better than anyone how easily she saw through it.

Maybe that was why it’s her he was talking to now. Because out of everyone he knew, she’s the one that knew him best, the one that can hear all the things he didn’t say, even when he’s saying a million things at once.

“It’s not that bad.” she said again, hoping that it sounded more sincere this time; not that she didn’t mean it of course; this was Dan after all, her best friend in the whole wide world. There was nothing he could do that can make her reject him or think he was disgusting.

Even if he was sleeping with Chuck Bass.

“That’s good to know,” Dan said, sounding serious again. “Cause that’s not the bad part.”

Vanessa steeled herself with another drink. Then she opened Pandora’s Box.

“So what is ‘the bad part’?”

***

“Wow!” 

“I know”

“Seriously... _Wow!_ ”

“Yeah... I know...its bad...”

“ _Bad?_ Dan! I leave you alone for three months and you become a prostitute for a guy who’s probably one of the biggest STD risks in the city and spying on his father whose one of the most powerful men in the country! Not to mention this whole vendetta against the school...”

“Ok, so maybe _‘bad’_ doesn’t quite cover it,” Dan concluded and they both took another drink.

He was right about this not being a conversation they can have while sober.

“I know this probably isn’t something you want to hear right now Dan, but Oh my god! What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Apparently I wasn’t.” Dan admitted. “Chuck has that effect on me.”

“I’ll say... I mean, did you even think about what would happen to the Van Der Woodsens if whatever it is you have on Bart Bass gets out?”

That got a long pause from Dan. He wasn’t sure how it had happened but, Serena, Eric, Lily...They all slipped out of his mind. He wasn’t thinking about them at all, even though he’d only seen Serena a week ago, she still didn’t register. Somehow he didn’t see them, he didn’t notice them, they just didn’t occur to him...not in his grand plan to bring down the Basses.

They were a part of the Basses’ world, an integral part too since they are the same family but... They weren’t a part of his and Chuck’s world.

Their world. The sick and twisted one he’d been so caught up in that he couldn’t see anything else.

Chuck blinded him. And the Van Der Woodsens almost became collateral damage.

“Oh my god! What was the hell was I thinking? I’m gonna destroy their family!” It finally hit him and Dan hid his face in his hands. “And then if Bart goes to jail Bass Industries could get taken over. And then stocks will go down and then there’ll be a takeover and who knows how many innocent people will get laid off in the crossfire! I won’t just be destroying one family, but maybe hundreds of families, and over what? A grudge against Chuck Bass? What the hell is wrong with me?!”

“Dan... Breathe.” Vanessa’s hands were rubbing against his back again, soothing him. His head dropped to the kitchen counter.

“You know that first night we were together, Chuck told me I was turning into one of them.” he said, sounding tired now. “He was wrong of course. Blair might be evil in her own way but she’d never do something like this.”

“Ok Dan, before you start on your guilt trip, I have to remind you, as bad as you feel right now, you haven’t done anything. And you’re not going to either.”

“Yeah, now that you’ve snapped me out of it! Which, thank you, by the way, god knows what would have happened if you’d left me alone a day longer. I mean, what was happening with me and Chuck was seriously messed up but—”

“No, Dan,” she interrupted him again, this time turning him to face her. “I know you, and I meant what I said; you wouldn’t have gone through with it. Even if I wasn’t here, you still wouldn’t have gone through with it.”

Dan sighed and there was a grateful smile on his face. He didn’t believe a single thing she said.

“Thank you, for the vote of confidence V, but, you weren’t there. You didn’t see how messed up I was, all those mind games with Chuck. I wanted to destroy everything about him. I didn’t even care who I hurt.”

“Yes you do Dan!” Vanessa said again, trying to catch him before he went off on another tangent about how horrible he is. Dan might be a pretty amiable guy, but he could get very stubborn when he was being judgemental and that applied both to other people and himself.

He also had a tendency to get stuck inside his own head, over thinking things. Sometimes that kept him from seeing the answer that was staring at him in the face.

Thankfully, that’s what she was here for.

“Dan,” she started again, this time appealing to reason. “You remember when you told me about you spying on Bart Bass? You said that you’d found something that you could use against him, and you told me that you’d somehow even gotten a confession out of him... Well, you never told me what that ‘something’ you found is Dan. And its ok, I’m not telling you this because I want to know, but, Dan, if you can’t tell me, your best friend about what Bart Bass did, what makes you think you can tell a room full of reporters?”

That got Dan quiet again.

“I think you care who you hurt, Dan. I think you care a lot.”

Dan thought back again to that night. That night that started it all, the first night that Dan saw Chuck as human; vulnerable, desperate and lost and hiding it all where the world wouldn’t find it. He would have never denied that he cared about Chuck then, when his pain was laid out right in front of him. He told himself that he’d stopped caring the moment Chuck started their ‘arrangement’. He couldn’t afford to care after all, not about the monster that hurt him, twisted him up in fingers and played him until turned him into something he can’t even face.

But was that even true?

Chuck gave him a choice that first night. He squeezed him into a corner so small he could barely breathe but he still gave him a choice. Dan was the one who chose to play his game rather than tell his father the truth, and it was also Dan who punched that guy and got them both in jail in the first place that gave the school a reason to drop his scholarship. It was also Dan who let Shapiro talk him into exploiting someone else’s pain for a good story.

Chuck might have hurt him in the worst of ways, but, wasn’t he the one who decided to retaliate by doing something even worse? And if what Vanessa said was true (which, now he can admit, it is) then it was also him who couldn’t go through with it.

Victim or not, it was all his own choices, and apparently, despite everything, he still couldn’t deliberately hurt Chuck Bass.

Even if he really wanted to.

Or did he?

He thought back to Chuck’s smile, the one that looked a lot like his usual mocking one but wasn’t; the crinkle near his eyes when he laughed at an insult (that Dan didn’t mean) during dinner; the feel of his hair, still slick but soft and wet after a shower before he goes to sleep. Little things that most people didn’t notice about Chuck, small glimpses of the real him that he kept hidden behind closed doors but that Dan always seem to have the keys to. He can’t deny that he liked them. 

Maybe he didn’t _want_ to hurt Chuck after all. Maybe he just thought he needed to.

And didn’t that sound even more fucked up?

Still, it was true. Chuck had hurt him, took complete advantage of him when he was at his most vulnerable, used his greatest fears and insecurities to bring him to his knees and claim ownership of him over and over again. Made him feel dirty and disgusted with himself. Made him feel helpless.

Dan had needed to hurt him. Or thought he needed to hurt him because... what kind of person would he be if he didn’t?

The kind of person who let Chuck used him; let him get away with using him and hurting him. The person who was owned by Chuck.

His whore. Permanently.

Willingly.

Dan’s hand instinctively went to his neck. He could feel the familiar softness of cashmere there. He didn’t even remember putting the scarf on... Oddly enough, having it there now comforted him more than anything.

He supposed there are worse things to be than Chuck Bass’ bitch. After all, what kind of person would he be if he did go through with his plan of total annihilation?

Apparently not Dan Humphrey. It was actually something of a relief to know that despite everything that happened to him, he still wasn’t someone who could destroy another person. Especially not someone he actually cared about.

“Thank you.” he finally said to the guardian angel sitting next to him after the long moment of silence. 

“Hey, what are friends for if not fast forwarding through weeks if not months, of inner turmoil and angst?” she replied with a smile, then looked at him calculatingly again.

“You really like him don’t you?” She asked again, even though she already knew the answer. It was still hard to believe after all. Harder still when you took in the full situation.

“I don’t think ‘like’ is the right word for it, but I certainly really something him.” Dan answered, feeling strangely light now that everything was off his chest. There was a weird sense of freedom in finally being able to admit, whatever it was he was admitting to.

“Does that make me sick? I mean, after everything he did, that I still...”

“No,” Vanessa answered before Dan could finish. “It makes Chuck a sick and twisted bastard who’s going to get a kick in the crotch the next time I see him... but you? It just makes you complicated.”

“Complicated huh?” Dan said like he was trying it on for size. “I think I can live with complicated.”

***

The clock no longer ticked.

It was thirty eight minutes past two AM and twenty three seconds when Chuck had gotten sick of the incessant ticking in the still silence of his bedroom and taken a nine iron to his clock and five thousand dollar watch.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long ago that was. Only that it wasn’t very satisfying, even if it did stop the tick-tick-tick sounding in his head. That countdown of his life seemed like it both slowed and sped up at the same time as it moved towards... something. He didn’t know what it was yet, that first sign.

A sign of his world crashing down around him.

It could be a knock on the door. The magazine being delivered and sold. Maybe even something as dramatic as the police showing up; their handcuffs open and ready to take his father away from him. 

Or a phone call. Even a text message. Upper East Sider’s so often have their social lives decimated that way. Why not the Basses too? Of course, knowing his father, first sign would be him, not being here. Like always. Seemed as normal as any day where he wasn’t here either. And then that day would turn to weeks. Then months. Then years.

Lily would be heartbroken. Or maybe she wouldn’t. This was her third marriage after all.

Without the clock, (or maybe even with the clock) time seem to have slipped away from him, like a small stream of water he couldn’t catch, couldn’t even feel through the numbness of his fingers as it flowed down the drain.

His life would probably be joining it soon enough.

_So much for trying not to think about it._

Dan Humphrey. The bane of his existence.

Why didn’t he stop him before he got on that elevator? What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he break down like that? That couldn’t really be him! He was Chuck Bass for fuck’s sake! _Chuck Bass_ did not grovel, didn’t need to. He had every opportunity to grab Dan. Maybe even strip search him and give him one last painful reminder of _exactly_ what he is and what he means to him.

Which was ‘nothing’. Or supposed to be nothing anyway, even if that would clearly be a lie.

Dan isn’t ‘nothing’ to him.

And isn’t that what started this whole mess in the first place?

He didn’t quite understand it himself. Before that night Dan really was nothing to him. He was nothing to a lot of people. But then that changed; he wormed his way in and then somehow everything he does, good, bad, painful...all of it affected him and he just couldn’t let go, couldn’t leave Dan alone. He had to drag him, kicking and screaming into his life, and keep him there!

Of all the ways he could’ve punished Dan for hurting him, for humiliating him and betraying him, he chose the one that would keep Dan closest to him.

What kind of idiot does that? Clearly, he wasn’t thinking straight. He never could around Dan...

And now it was going to ruin him.

Him and his family.

A knock on his door broke him from his stupor.

“Can I come in?” His father asked, door already partially open. His usual unreadable expression on his face.

“Can’t stop you,” Chuck replied feigning nonchalance. Inside, he braced himself for the worse.

Maybe this was the first sign of the Bass apocalypse; his father actually volunteering to talk to him. His first sentence confirmed Chuck’s suspicions.

“I want to apologize, son.” he said.

Chuck hadn’t heard him say that in a very long time. He hadn’t heard it since he was little, back when missing Christmas dinner and parent/teacher nights were still new to him. Not that he wasn’t distant back then but at least then, he used to notice.

If Bart Bass was going to apologize to him for being a bad father, and that was going to be the last thing he said to him before he goes to jail?...Chuck wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it.

“I never blamed you for your mother’s death.”

The words sent Chuck spinning. Of all the things he expected to hear from his father right now, that really wasn’t one of them. He finally looked his father in the face and for the first time, the emotions in them were written clear as day and it wasn’t disappointment.

It was regret.

“I read that short story that Dan Humphrey wrote about you and your mother. I had no idea you felt that way.”

Chuck stiffened at that, eyes still disbelieving as he looked at his father.

The man turned away, like he didn’t want to face him. Couldn’t stand to look him in the eye. For a moment Chuck thought he’d stopped, that this conversation was too much for him, too raw and too real... but then he turned back and pushed forward.

“It’s my fault,” he started again. “I know I’ve had trouble being close to you, but it’s not for the reasons you think.”

Finally he moved over from where he stood awkwardly at the door and sat down next to him on the bed. His eyes were distant again but instead of the usual coldness there was pain, and sadness and joy. His father was remembering something, someone, from a very long time ago.

“Every time I look at you, I see her,” he said, still lost in memories.

Chuck’s eyes followed his father’s to the photograph on his bedside table. Since he was a child, he had memorized every line of that picture, every light and shadow that played across the texture of her skin, every sparkle of her large diamond earring. This is the woman he will never know, but who will always haunt him. The woman he owed his life to, and to whom a life is owed to him, a life he’ll never know and pretended he didn’t crave.

Mum.

He didn’t know what she was like, or what she would have been like; an ideal mum who comforts him when his father missed his birthdays, an aging beauty queen who drowns herself in a bottle to relive her glory days, a cold and distant figure who tried to control him... He’ll never know her, this woman whom even in death has his father so completely wrapped up in her.

All he’ll know of her is her hair, her nose, her eyes... the same ones that stare out at him every time he looked into a mirror.

He really did look like her.

“You miss her,” Chuck stated. Even after all these years, after hundreds of supermodels and one night stands with countless socialites. Even after marrying Lily... Bart Bass was still in love with her. Still devoted to her.

Chuck wondered if he was capable of love like that. Or if the upbringing he had, the life he led, had already squashed it out of him.

He didn’t know if that’d be a good thing or a bad one.

“Son,” his father started again, this time he was back in reality. “I made some terrible mistakes in my life, but I don’t want to make another.”

“I want to know my son.”

He was looking Chuck straight in the eye this time, blue eyes serious, more intense than he’d ever seen them.

He said it. His father... His father wanted to be his father. He wanted to know him. It was something he’d given up on a long time ago. Something he pretended he never wanted in the first place. A child’s secret Christmas wish, back when he still believed the maids about Santa Claus. Back when he had dreams and something that vaguely resembled innocence.

And Dan Humphrey made it come true. The same Dan Humphrey that almost destroyed him.

The same Dan Humphrey that he’d hurt so badly, but never could break.

He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Like all the oxygen had left him and he was gasping and grasping at something he can’t reach and can’t name.

He’d never been good at handling strong emotions.

There was suddenly a hand on his shoulder. It was slightly warm, familiar if not for the sentiments behind them. His father had never been one to offer human touch for comfort. He only touch him to guide him, come here, go there, ‘how could you possibly do this?’ those were the words that went with the touch.

Not exactly Hallmark moments.

Still, he gave his father a look that said thank you, and he gave him a small smile in return.

“You know, that Dan kid may have a vicious streak in him but he seems to really care about you.”

The non sequitur threw Chuck off. He gave his father a look.

“You knew about me and Dan?”

He gave Chuck a look in return. “Of course I do Charles. Did you really think I’d let some kid follow me around at work? I knew you were with him. I wanted to check him out. There are some things you just can’t tell from private investigator’s photographs and phone records.”

Chuck was slightly stunned. “You never did that with anyone else I’ve been involved with.”

“Most of the people you’ve been involved with don’t last more than a night... Anyway, other than the whole business with the news magazine, which he didn’t go through with, he seems like a good kid. You could do a lot worse than him... In fact you have done a lot worse than him... Just uh, try not to make him so angry again next time, and if you do, keep him away from any family secrets. I’m not sure my company can handle it.”

Despite himself Chuck smiled again. The surrealism of the conversation aside, this was probably the most his father ever said to him without being angry. Still... something nagged at him.

“So that’s it, you’re not even going to tell me to be discreet?”

Bart sighed. “Son, I may not know you as well as I should, but I do know you enough to know that if I force you to hide your relationship, the first thing you’ll be tempted to do the next time you’re under the influence is to make a pornographic video of yourself and Dan and leak it to the press. I’d rather not risk being the father of the next Paris Hilton... And besides, it’s not like you’ve never been caught with another boy before on that ridiculous website.”

“Wait, you check Gossip Girl?” Chuck asked. Seems this day was all about throwing Chuck off.

His father’s face turned stoic. “Don’t be ridiculous son. I have people who do that for me.”

And then he gave him a smirk.

Apparently his father had a sense of humour. Who’d have thought?

***

Monday. Back at school.

Chuck has History with Dan, first period. In a normal week he would have simply skipped it even if he wasn’t trying to avoid the other teen but somehow, with his father and him on good terms for the first time, he was reluctant to do anything to piss him off so soon after their little talk.

It wasn’t like he was going to change who he was just because his father decided that now would be the time for him to start acting like a father, but still, he’s Chuck Bass and if he was going to rock the boat, it wouldn’t be over something as stupid as missing first period History.

Which is why he was sitting here right now, pretending to look bored even as his thoughts constantly swam back to the brunette sitting two rows in front of him.

He was _not_ staring at Dan Humphrey.

 _Chuck Bass >_ did not stare at _Dan Humphrey!_

Because Chuck Bass was not an 8th grader with a crush and this wasn’t fucking High School Musical! He didn’t need to know why Humphrey did what he did. He doesn’t need to know what kind of twisted game he’s playing or not playing with him and his father. And most of all he didn’t care that he didn’t know where he stood with him right now because Chuck Bass always knew where he stood when it came to arrogant, goody two shoes, nobodies like Dan Humphrey!

Apparently Chuck Bass was also not as good at denial as he thought he is because even he didn’t believe that...

Dan Humphrey had him right in the palm of his hands. He had the upper hand completely! He could have done anything he wanted. He was free from him. Free from being under him. He could’ve taken his revenge and watched Chuck fall for all that he’s done to him, and even if he didn’t do that he could still cut a deal with him and his father. He could’ve gotten out from under Chuck; got the money he’d need for school and for college. He could’ve gotten anything he wanted.

Instead he didn’t.

Instead he decided that rather than worrying about his own future and saving his own ass, that he should instead try and fix Chuck’s relationship with his father, like he was following some twisted code of chivalry.

Maybe that’s what he was going for.

Maybe Dan thought that if he did something so painfully, annoyingly and undeniably good that that would somehow change Chuck. Take him away from his sinful, corrupted ways and into the light.

Maybe that was how people with morals manipulated each other.

And wasn’t that an unsettling thought?

Well, if that was what Dan was trying to do then he obviously hadn’t learnt from all those times they were together. Chuck Bass didn’t respond to chivalry, didn’t respond to morality or decency. He responded to lust, to anger, to the need for power and control.

Dan should know that better than anyone.

As if sensing Chuck’s thoughts, Dan’s shoulder shifted and he turned away from his notes. Chuck knew exactly where he would be looking and quickly turned away. It was one thing to be staring at Dan Humphrey and be in denial about it; it was another thing entirely to get caught doing it.

For a while Chuck stared at his note book. The pen was clutched in his hand but the paper remained as blank as it had been when he entered the class. He felt eyes boring into him, curious and intense and he idly wondered if even the teacher was paying attention to what he was teaching. Surely he would have noticed by now that one of his best students wasn’t even looking in his general direction.

Eventually Chuck couldn’t take it anymore and looked up. Dan had probably figured out by now that Chuck had been looking at him before and Chuck wasn’t so much a coward that he couldn’t even look at the other teen in the face.

Two dark pair of eyes met for a brief second. Their intensity mirroring each other as they search the windows of the other’s soul with the questions that were burning inside both of them.

Dan looked away first, head bowed as if shamed to be caught staring. Apparently he hadn’t stared at Chuck because he felt Chuck staring at him so much, as he just felt the need to stare at Chuck too.

It’d be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic, Chuck thought to himself as he wondered again how on Earth he’d been reduced to this sort of middle school behaviour.

The rest of the class went on in more or less the same fashion. The teacher whose name Chuck could barely remember rattled on about the Civil War while Chuck and Dan took turns burning holes into each other’s heads with their eyes. Their gazes occasionally collided before they both turned away; only to gravitate slowly back to each other and then it started all over again.

The sighs of relief were unanimous when the bell finally rang. Unfortunately Chuck wasn’t the only one who felt the need to rush out of class.

You’d think a school this expensive could invest in some larger doors, Chuck thought as Dan finished putting away his books and headed towards him. There was a definite smirk on his face.

Saint or not, Dan obviously was still affected by his influence.

He didn’t say anything as he walked passed him though, and somehow, that grated against Chuck’s nerves even more than if he had said something. 

Their next period wasn’t one they shared together but their classrooms were still adjacent. Chuck wished he could say that they steadfastly ignored each other like they usually do all the way there but he still couldn’t resist giving Dan curious looks. 

On the way they passed Nate and Serena. They were talking about something with serious expressions on their faces. When they noticed him they both turned to give him suspicious looks, that same _‘I’m watching you’_ look that they’ve been giving him for the past week.

Chuck suspected he knew what it was about but he hadn’t really been in a mood to deal with them.

Finally they were reaching their destination. Dan was ready to enter his classroom when curiosity finally got the best of Chuck and he touched Dan subtly on the arm.

It was when he turned around that Chuck finally noticed it. He couldn’t feel it back when he was sitting two rows away but now that he’s faced to face with him and not trying to ignore him, Chuck can sense it. There was something different about Dan today. Different from the way he had been when their relationship was more defined; owner and pet, enemy and enemy; not that those categories had ever been truly clear and all that well defined but still... Dan was different now, standing here in front of Chuck. His shoulders were no longer slumped and he didn’t seem to avoid anyone’s eyes. And despite the curious uncertainty that was still on his face when he looked at Chuck, Dan still seemed more assured.

Like he wasn’t lost anymore.

Somehow that got Chuck even more curious.

“I just have to know,” he asked finally. “Why?”

The question seemed to amuse the other brunette, and a smile grew on his face. His dark eyes seemed to twinkle for a moment, but astonishingly enough there was no trace of mockery there.

Chuck never realized before how nice Dan’s smile was.

Or maybe he did but was usually on guard enough to stop himself before those stray thoughts actually formed.

Somehow, Dan was throwing him off even more than usual today.

“Because...” Dan started, and his smile shifted into a teasing smirk. It matched perfectly with the mischievous glint in his eyes when he leaned closer to Chuck, the heat of his body caressing him even with the barrier of clothing and air between them. Chuck held his body completely still as Dan’s breath touched his neck, kept his expression as stoney as possible as Dan whispered his answer.

“I’m Dan Humphrey.”

Then he pushed open the door and walked into the classroom, leaving Chuck frozen against the wall, legs not entirely steady as he tried to quell the heat that had started to grow inside of him. He clenched his fist out of frustration and tried to calm himself.

There was a strangely familiar fluttering inside his stomach. It took him a while before he recognised them, and when he finally did, he let out a curse.

Blair never did tell him how to kill those damn butterflies.


	3. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is not about what a person deserves... Or what they think they can handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Author07! You've been my beta for this whole fic!!! Thanks for putting up with me. And Novak too! Thank you so much for standing by me and helping me out!

Chuck was still distracted by the time he came home. He had tried in various ways to get the confounding Dan Humphrey out of his head but it seemed like the other teen had dug a hole right into the centre of his brain and buried himself there.

Not even the Russian twins at the club could distract him for long.

He was so engrossed in thoughts of the puppy eyed brunette that he didn’t notice the two figures that were waiting for him in the living room.

Both Nate and Serena sat rigidly on the soft sofa; backs straight and with matching grim expressions on their faces. Accusing looks in their eyes. Chuck could guess why they were here.

It started with the letter ‘D’ and sounded a lot like ‘Damn!’

“Serena... Nathaniel. I was wondering when you’d finally come. Let me guess, you think I have a problem right?” He said with a sardonic smile.

The duo remained frozen, neither taking the bait.

Chuck sighed, resigned.

“Listen, I know the two of you are worried about my terrible influence on your precious Dan Humphrey, but your intervention came a little late. Me and Dan we’re...”

Chuck paused. Images of Dan fluttered through his mind, confused swirls of thoughts that never seem to end. He could still feel Dan’s heated breath on his skin, lips on his neck, teasing him. Chuck still remembered that aura he felt around him this morning; that self assured one Dan never had before. Chuck spent all day trying to figure out the message but oddly enough it wasn’t until now that he finally cracked the enigma.

Dan was free. Free from him. The thought sliced through him like a knife into his stomach.

Dan was not affected by him anymore; no matter what he did... somehow Dan had found a way to just... be...

“We’re over,” he finished; the two words driving the knife further inside him.

He almost couldn’t believe it. Dan found a way to not be affected by him and yet, he was more affected by Dan than ever. The slightest movement, a shift in his facial expressions, he noticed... obsessed over it, over what it meant. The smallest look in someone else’s direction has him burning (with, dare he say it, jealousy?). It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

He wasn’t _supposed_ to be this weak.

He heard the loud thud before he felt the pain. It started in his left eye socket and spread, out and deeper in. There was an automatic curse before it’d even registered with him that it was Nate’s fist that had connected with his face.

He covered his eye with his hands. The pain was reminding Chuck of Dan’s first impression on him that night at the party.

Fuck! Even now he couldn’t escape Dan. 

“What the fuck is your problem Nathaniel?!” He yelled out instead, trying his best to ignore the throbbing reminder and deal with the issue at hand.

“What’s my problem?! What the fuck is your problem Chuck?!” He yelled, blue eyes blazing and out of control. His whole body was tense with energy, ready to burst out again. 

“What do you mean what’s my problem? You just punched me in the face!” Chuck spat back; his own body tensing. He didn’t really want to fight his best friend (well, maybe former best friend now unfortunately) but he could tell Nathaniel was beyond reasoning with right now.

“Yeah well after what you did, you deserve a whole lot more than that!”

“Ok everybody just calm down!” Serena finally stepped in. She seemed to have produced two ice packets, seemingly from out of nowhere. She placed one gently over Nate’s fist before throwing the other one at Chuck.

Neither one of them thanked her but they did sit back down, seemingly calmer though the sparks of anger still polluted the air. 

“Nate,” she said gently, like talking to an injured animal. “I know you’re angry, but we just came here to talk to him ok?”

“No, _you_ came here to talk to him Serena. _I_ came here to punch him.” He sounded like a petulant child and Chuck resisted the urge to suggest spanking. In the mood Nate was in right now, he might have completely ignored his face and gone straight for his balls, Chuck was rather attached to those. 

 

“So now that we got the violent portion of the evening out of the way, what is it you want to talk to me about, sis?” Chuck started, keeping his tone artificially light. He could tell from Serena’s face that she was dreading this conversation almost as much as Chuck was, but there was no avoiding it.

An envelope was placed on the table in front of him.

“This was accidentally delivered to my room,” she explained. “After that, well, let’s just say you’re not the only one with a private investigator on speed dial now.”

It was his bank statement. All of his recent expenses.

He’d almost forgotten how expensive it was to buy Dan Humphrey. Not just the money for the school but also bribery and digging up skeletons in board member’s closets. Even with the way he usually spends money, it still stood out. He should have been more careful at covering up his tracks.

When he looked back up at his step sister, he noticed that her usually bright eyes had gone dark. No one had ever expected much from Chuck in his life. Usually most people came in expecting to be disappointed but Chuck was thrown by the amount of disappointment he saw on her face. Serena had never thought highly of Chuck before, but looking at her now, he could tell that her opinion of him had just sunk to an all new low.

He didn’t know what to say to that. Not sure if there was anything he could say to that.

“So it’s true then?” She asked; voice shook slightly, though she tried her best to hide it.

“Why ask questions you already know the answer to sis?”

“Because we want to hear you say it!” Nate spoke up finally. He wasn’t attacking Chuck anymore but the anger was still there; hardening his voice.

“What do you want to hear me say Nathaniel?!” Chuck was shouting now. “That I fucked Dan Humphrey?! That I bribed and blackmailed the school board into dropping his scholarship just so I could force him to have sex with me for money?! Do you want to hear about how I forced him onto his back? How he begged me not to but I did it anyway? How about the time I pushed him against the wall and strangled him? I got off on that you know?! I got off on all of it! **I _enjoyed_ turning poor _innocent_ little Dan Humphrey into a whore! Is that what you wanted to hear Nathaniel!?”**

Chuck didn’t even realised he’d stood up until his knees hit the floor. It seemed that his legs had given up on him just like the rest of the world had and he curled against himself, instinctively hiding. He was getting sick of the third degree, sick of Nate and Serena’s accusing eyes on him, sick of being constantly reminded of Dan Humphrey and his pleading dark brown eyes and so so sick of the guilt that ran through his veins like iron chains weighing him down and suffocating him.

He didn’t even realised he’d been crying until he tasted the salty wetness on his own lips. He laughed humourlessly at his own weakness.

Dan Humphrey.

He wasn’t sure when it had happened but somehow, it was like suddenly his world began and ended with him and he couldn’t think of anything else. Couldn’t dream of anything else. Even in his dreams Dan followed him. Haunted him. 

 

Dan and all the million ways Chuck had wronged him. God he hated himself. Chuck Bass didn’t think this way. He didn’t do this dance; this, ' _you’re too good for me, I don’t deserve you_ ' crap! He didn’t! Chuck Bass took what he wanted. _No one_ is too good for him. And it didn’t matter what he deserved because if it was about _deserving_ he’d never get anything in his life. The world didn’t work that way. It’s about taking what you want, and he did. He may have been in denial about what he wanted the entire time but _he did take it_. He had owned Dan Humphrey. Body and soul... well, body at least.

And now he doesn’t any more.

It shouldn’t _hurt_ this much.

He shouldn’t miss Dan this much. 

He’d only seen him just this morning. Only tasted his skin, just a few nights ago. His addiction. Seemed like he was in withdrawal right now. If he waited it out long enough, maybe it would go away. Maybe he’d finally kick the habit.

Yeah right. And maybe he and Blair can shoot flying pigs as a new hobby.

Chuck had never been good at dealing emotions. Never been good at actually feeling them, always choosing instead to push it down and lock it away but now... It all came crashing out the basement door. All the pain, all the guilt, all the self hatred, his need for Dan, his need to keep him away, protect him from himself, it was all jumbled up and he couldn’t make heads or tails of it at all. It was just chaos, swirling in his head making him dizzy, making his body weak and tears run down his face, barely noticed.

What was happening to him? Before Dan, he was Chuck Bass. Now he was just a mess on the floor.

There was a sigh in the room. It reminded Chuck that he wasn’t alone right now. His meltdown or whatever it was... there were witnesses to it. People who saw him break. Saw him, as weak as he is.

If he was still the Chuck Bass he was, he might actually care. 

Serena had her arms around Nate. She had been holding him back from attacking Chuck again but the arms that were tight a minute before were now loosened. And Nate, rather than attacking, was instead just standing there; looking at him with the strangest expression on his face.

Chuck thought he might have seen the slightest bit of pity there. If he cared, he might have been humiliated.

Then after what felt like a lifetime, Nate leaned down towards him, still with that same expression on his face.

“You know, it’s a good thing that love is never about what a person actually deserves... Or what they _think_ they could handle.”

And then he got up.

“Come on Serena,” he said, arms going around her shoulder. “I don’t think we could punish him any more than he’s punishing himself right now.”

The door clicked shut, leaving Chuck alone with just the silence of the empty room and the ghost of Dan Humphrey as company.

Chuck decided he could use more company so, using the last of his energy, he got up and poured himself some Scotch. Then he laid back down on the same spot on the floor.

Since there was no use escaping, this place seemed as perfect as any to lie down and just wallow.

***

It was raining in Brooklyn and like with everything else, the Brooklyn rain seemed different from the rain that fell on the Upper East Side. It wasn’t that the rain was less refined or harsher as it fell upon the dimly lit street. Nor did it taste any less awful as a stray drop splashed itself against Chuck’s lips. Rather it was the way ‘quaint’ little brick buildings turned to dark red ogres, and twisted alleyways turned to long poisonous snakes as the droplets blurred the edges of Chuck’s vision. It was in the song the rain played as it hit against the side of metal or garbage or whatever else it was lying around on the streets. Loud yet intangible and inescapable as Chuck made his way down almost familiar streets, trying his best to get rid of the drops that had clung to his eyelashes only to be replaced by new ones.

The rain on the Upper East Side was simpler somehow. Less distorting. Less overwhelming. Less... all encompassing.

But then, it could just be his delusion talking. Or the alcohol. Or the drugs. Or the fact that he had people getting umbrellas for him (sometimes even holding it for him) on the Upper East Side.

He didn’t want an umbrella tonight though. Instead, he wanted to feel the rain splatter on his face. Feel the coldness seep into his skin, feel the water soak into the expensive fabric of his clothes. Feel the weight of it, holding him down. Feel anything other than the guilt that was eating away inside of him, anything other than the ghost of Dan Humphrey’s touch on his flesh.

Of course, if he _really_ wanted to avoid Dan Humphrey, coming all the way to Brooklyn, to his home was a phenomenally stupid move.

Still, at least Chuck had a reason to be here. A good reason too (or as good as his drug addled and drunken mind could come up with at the time). Chuck had a mission tonight, and he planned on following through.

No matter how wobbly the stairs to Humphrey’s loft are.

Fuck! He tripped again, the cement floor scraping against his slacks. He barely felt it though and part of him thanked the potency of the drugs though vaguely he knew that without them he probably wouldn’t have tripped in first place.

Chuck was usually pretty good at handling himself while under the influence. He’d developed tolerance for a little bit everything over the years; however, even he had his limits.

He managed to get himself to Dan’s front door more or less unscathed (though he did trip a few more times). He had planned to place his note underneath the door, but as he reached it, it slowly opened. 

Dan was standing on the other side and as Chuck had imagined, his sleep wear consisted of an old Lincoln Hawk t-shirt and dark blue boxers.

He was also holding a baseball bat in his hands. Poised to attack.

“Chuck?” he asked incredulously; blinking the sleep from his eyes as he stared at the other teen, not entirely sure if he was dreaming or not. “What the hell are you doing here at 3 in the morning? I thought you were a burglar or something... And what happened to your eye?”

Chuck scoffed and ignored the last question. “What could they possibly want to steal from you Humphrey? Your cabbage patch doll?”

Dan dropped the club he was holding. Idly, he wondered how so many people seemed to know about Cedric.

“What are you doing here Chuck?” he asked again, softer this time as he took in the rich brunette’s state. The usually slicked back hair fell in sheets over his face, small streams of water still flowing down over pale skin and red rimmed eyes. What once had been charcoal grey suit was now almost black, darkened by the water along with his coat which had grown heavy, as if it held the rain from all of Brooklyn inside it. Chuck was holding onto the frame of the door like it was his life line.

In short, he looked something like a drowned cat. And he almost stank like one too... Well, if the cat had drowned in alcohol anyway.

“I wasn’t going to see you.” Chuck’s voice was rougher than usual, but quiet. “It’s not a good idea for me to see you.”

“And yet you’re here,” Dan stated. There was no mockery in his voice. In fact, through the drug induced haze, Chuck thought he could spot that elusive smile. The one only Dan Humphrey seemed capable of giving where he only used his eyes but not his lips.

Chuck felt the familiar fluttering in his stomach again and he quickly looked away from Dan.

 _Damn those butterflies are still there!_ He thought as he felt his face heat up. _Chuck Bass does not fucking blush dammit!!_

He took a deep breath. He had to get a hold of himself. He had to wrap this up before it was too late. Before he got in too deep again. He was a man on a mission and he was going to complete his mission and that was it.

He handed Dan the envelope. It had gotten wet on the way over but somehow it had seemed more important at the time to get it over here than on the state of its delivery.

Dan took the paper from Chuck gently, like he was afraid it would fall apart in his hands. Chances are it might have.

“Umm... thanks? I guess.” He said, this time with a full smile.

The wings beat faster against Chuck’s stomach and he had to turn away. He had to get out of here before the situation got even more out of control.

“Wait!” Dan called out after him. “Chuck! You’re not going back out there like that are you?”

Chuck ignored him and kept walking. The task got harder as the corridor seemed to blur.

“Chuck! Are you insane? It’s the middle of the night! It’s raining! It’s cold! You obviously don’t have your limo with you! In the state you’re in, the fact that you haven’t gotten mugged on the way over here is already a miracle!”

He kept on walking. Two feet in front of the other on the hard cement floor. He ignored the dizziness as he navigated the maze the once straight doorway had become.

“Chuck! You can barely stand up straight! And you’re gonna catch a cold!” Dan continued after him. His voice seemed to grow distant.

“You’re not my mother, Daniel” was the last thing he said before everything faded to black.

***

The first thing that Chuck became aware of when consciousness slowly returned to him was the incessant throbbing. The throbbing didn’t come from his favourite organ; but rather the other one, located further north. Throbbing with that one usually felt a lot like having cymbals repeated banged over his head.

Of course, it wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar feeling for Chuck.

Slowly he opened his eyes, still squinting as he noticed the bright light that seemed to be fighting its way through ugly curtains that was certainly not his. The sharp blindingly bright lines along its edges were like blades cutting into his retinas and he quickly shut his eyes again and turned away. He realised later that it was a bad move as the sickness that had been rolling in his stomach woke with a shock and threatened to shoot up.

He kept himself still and took deep slow breaths. He really didn’t feel like dealing with the ensuing mess that would come from getting sick over someone else’s bed, whoever that might be. Not that he ever cleaned up his own vomit before, but still... Morning afters were awkward enough already. Usually he avoided them entirely by skipping out before morning but that option isn’t always open to him. More often than not he passed out before he could.

“Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty,” a familiar voice greeted him.

Humphrey.

Dan...

 _He spent the night at Dan’s?_ His mind scrambled through the pain, trying to remember. To catch the brief glimpse of pale skin and dark hair that he’d missed so much. _How did he end up here? Why was he here? Why did Dan let him in? Did they have sex? (Did it mean something to Dan?)_

The sickness hit him before the self hatred at his own weakness could. Obviously that line of thought was not good with a hangover.

“Bathroom’s on the right,” Humphrey called out quickly and Chuck hurried to follow the instructions.

***

The brand new toothbrush was offered to Chuck wordlessly when he was finished. Though Chuck didn’t say anything, he was thankful for Dan’s boy-scout-esque preparedness. Morning afters were awkward enough as it is without bad breath or having to use someone else’s toothbrush.

When he came out though, he found that that wasn’t all the other teen had prepared for.

There was a white tray in Dan’s hands, cheap plastic from what he could see. On it was a glass of water and several bottles of pills. There was also a single red rose in a small vase.

Chuck resisted the urge to smile at Dan’s sentimentality.

“I know you don’t have much experience with this, Humphrey, but some of those don’t help with hangovers,” he noted as he noticed the labels on the bottles.

“These aren’t for your hangover Chuck. They’re for your cold,” Dan said and Chuck could see he was fighting a smile.

“I don’t have a cold Humphrey,” he stated as firmly as he could, ignoring the fact that his body was practically begging for him to go back under the warm covers. Just because Rufus Humphrey decided that he’d rather spend money on his children’s education than on decent heaters and the Humphrey’s had both adapted to this habitat didn’t mean that he had a cold.

“Of course not,” Dan mocked. “So does that mean that the reason you’re burning up and shivering is because of me?”

“I’m not sh-ha choo!“ His sentence was disrupted by a sneeze.

“That doesn’t mean – ha choo!” It was followed by another one. And another one. A string of them bursting out of him.

When it stopped he grimaced at his body’s own bad timing. Dan Humphrey was letting out a full blown smile now. It wasn’t the kind of smile people usually associate with someone like Chuck Bass. It was a lot more reminiscent of the kind of smile people give to puppies, or kittens. If his head wasn’t still pounding, Chuck might have been infuriated.

_Chuck Bass was not ‘cute’ dammit!_

“Fine” he snatched the pills from Dan’s tray and swallowed them. “You know, you should have told me sooner that you liked playing nurse, Humphrey. I would have brought the costumes.”

Dan didn’t rise to the bait. Instead he just kept looking at him. His smile had faded, leaving in its wake, an intense stare that made Chuck shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. The look made him want Dan closer, want Dan all over him... and it made him want to flee.

He thinks the second option would be better for his sanity in the long run. Chuck had only been awake for 15 minutes and already he was getting tired again. It was a bad idea for him to come here in the first place. Staying here would be worse. He still didn’t remember what happened last night yet but whatever it was, he doubted it’d changed anything between them.

After all, they were Chuck Bass and Dan Humphrey. They were a disaster waiting to happen.

“Now can I please have my cell phone back so I can call my chauffeur?” He said eventually; trying his hardest to stick to his resolve. Hopefully, he’ll be able to stay away for real this time (even if he knew a large part of him really didn’t want to).

“No,” Dan answered, seemingly sticking to his own resolve.

Chuck sighed. His headache seemed to triple in a matter of seconds even as a different part of him cheered. This whole being conflicted thing was so much harder to deal with now that he doesn’t have a thick wall of denial or drunkenness to hide behind.

“What are you going to do Humphrey? Take advantage of my illness? Tie me up and keep me here so you could have your revenge? I may not know your father very well but if he raised you, I’m pretty certain he wouldn’t be open minded enough to let his son keep another boy tied to his bed... Even if he is a former rock star.”

Dan laughed at that. “As fun as that sounds, I was actually gonna tell you that your phone broke.”

“Oh...” Chuck couldn’t keep the disappointment from his voice.

“But err...” Dan started then hesitated, seeming sweetly shy for the first time since before their games started.

Chuck felt the guilt tug at him again. He did his best to ignore it.

“But you’re sick” Dan started again.

“So everyone keeps telling me” Chuck cut in, trying to sound light but not quite succeeding.

“Well yes, you are in that sense too, but I meant you have fever. And I know that if you leave here you’ll go home and then you’ll drink scotch and then take things you really shouldn’t be taking with it and not let anyone take care of you even if there was someone there to take care of you because you’re Chuck Bass and-“

“Your point, Humphrey?”

“Stay.”

And there it was. A single word, and yet it seemed so powerful. The way Dan’s eyes brightened as it was spoken. That hopeful look Chuck sometimes saw when they were together in one of those rare moments when they forgot they were supposed to be enemies.

But was Dan his enemy now? Chuck didn’t know anymore.

“Jenny’s at a sleep over again and dad’s got a gallery exhibit he’ll be at most of the night. Stay Chuck.” He asked again. “At least for another night.”

“What do you want with me Humphrey?” Chuck finally asked the question that had been haunting him days. “I lost the game, you won. So, what more do you want from me? What game are you playing now?” He’d spent so much time with Dan for the past few months, and he was still a complete mystery to him. Now more than ever.

“I’m not playing anything Chuck,” Dan answered, he sounded sincere. “I just want you to stay.”

“Why? What could you possibly want with someone like me? You hate me Humphrey! You hate everything I stand for and I’m never going to change. And...” Chuck’s voice softened at that. He felt whatever strength he had left leave him suddenly.

“I hurt you.” It was almost a whisper. “I hurt you a lot. What I’ve done it’s... It’s not something that you can just forgive. Not easily. Not even for you.”

“I know,” Dan admitted. “You did hurt me. You hurt me in a way that no one else ever had before. And I know what you did; it’s not easy to forgive. In fact right now, I can’t even tell if I’ve really forgiven you or not but...”

Dan’s gaze flickered over to his bed side table. There was a piece of paper lying on it. It was crinkled by the wetness that was no longer there, ink stains leaving pinkish-purple blots on blurry black lines.

Chuck’s note.

Chuck’s memory returned to him. He knew why he had come here now.

He had come to apologize to Dan.

“I couldn’t read the entire note because it got too wet. I could make out most of it though. You said you’d handle everything with the school. And that you were sorry. You said that you know that that’s not enough to make up for what happened but it’s the only thing you have to offer.” Dan turned back to look at Chuck. His eyes were serious and deep.

“I don’t believe that,” he stated firmly. “I don’t believe that’s all you can offer.” He took a step closer; barging in on Chuck’s personal space until Chuck could feel Dan’s breath on his face. In the back of his mind it registered that this was supposed to be his move, not Dan’s, but he was too distracted by their proximity. They were so close Chuck thought he could almost feel the beat of Dan’s heart quickening as they got closer.

“You asked me what I wanted from you,” Dan continued. “Well, it’s not revenge, or retribution. I’m not gonna play any more games with you because I’m sick of games that neither of us can win. And I’m not going to change you either. I don’t need you to be a better person; I don’t need you to be anything other than the person you are because _I want you._ ”

The words shot through Chuck like fiery arrows. He felt his skin burn in a way that had nothing to do with the fever. He wanted so badly to touch Dan and yet completely frozen by his gaze.

“I want you Chuck, and it scared the hell out of me,” Dan continued again, finally admitting to the truth he’d been denying for so long. “I was terrified of what it meant; to still want you after everything you did to me. I was scared of what kind of person it’d make me but... But being scared, being ashamed, being angry, none of it made me stop wanting you. And all these mind games we play, all the things we put each other through; we think it’s protecting us, making us less vulnerable but we’re not! I can tell when you don’t want to hurt me Chuck. I can see it in your eyes when you look at me and... I never wanted to hurt you either.”

“I’m sick of running away from how I feel. I’m sick of being scared, Chuck. Are you?”

They continued to stare into each other’s eyes. It reminded Chuck of when they were together before; their staring contest, a battle of wills neither one of them could back down from. It felt different now though. Now Chuck could see in Dan’s eyes; the desire that was so much more than the lust he was used to. It was a deep, almost bottomless yearning that tugged at every part his neglected soul. He felt more vulnerable than ever. More open. It felt exhilarating

It felt horrifying.

Deep down, Chuck knew that Dan was right. He was right about Chuck, about being scared. No one had ever made him feel as vulnerable as Dan did, as open; his soul bared out, spread eagled and tied down; helpless and waiting to be hurt, to be bled out and torn apart. He’d always thought intimacy was like that. He’d been ready to run since the moment he woke up and realised where he was... Long before that actually.

But can a person really run away from how they felt? How many times had he tried to keep the other teen at a distance? It seemed too often to count and yet every time he found himself back in the same place; right in front of Dan Humphrey.

He couldn’t deny it to himself anymore that he wanted Dan. He wanted him so badly. It still scared the hell out of him but Dan was still looking at him like that, with his deep, dark brown eyes, full of hope and desire and that damn stubbornness that always drove him crazy.

Dan was challenging him; and while Chuck knew that when it came to relationships and emotions that he was essentially a coward... He still wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

Chuck curved his lips into a smirk.

“You know, you should be careful Daniel. Challenging me like that? _Knowing_ that I couldn’t back down... That was almost like manipulation. Are you sure you still want to be exposed to more of my bad influence?” Somehow his smirk had twisted itself into a real smile. For once, Chuck let it stay there. 

Dan smiled back at him, his eyes crinkling at the edges. If Chuck was more poetic, he would have said it made him glow.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve passed ‘good boy’ a long while ago,” he answered. “So does this mean you’ll stay night?”

“Yes.” Chuck gave him a straight answer this time. He moved in to kiss Dan but then remembered his cold. As tempting as it was, he didn’t think Dan would appreciate their first kiss as a... non-enemy to be marred by him getting sick too. He settled for a small one on his neck instead.

“Oh and Dan,” he started as he headed back towards Dan’s bedroom. “This ‘stay’ better include a ‘breakfast’ in bed and a sponge bath.”

Dan couldn’t help but widen his smile. He thought there may be lots of people who could say ‘breakfast’ and make it sound dirty, but only Chuck Bass could say it and completely _ruin_ the innocence of the word forever.

“I think that could be arranged” he answered before following Chuck in, feeling a lot lighter than he had in long time.

He knew it wasn’t perfect. He knew they were still more or less on shaky ground. They still had a lot of major emotional issues standing between them, more issues than he could shake a stick at actually. Not to mention issues with his family (especially with Jenny) and trouble that he knew would eventually come from the Upper East Side. Their lives were complicated, _they_ were complicated and neither one of them knew where this was going, or if it could even last.

Still, right now, Dan was happy; happier than he had been since this whole thing started; happier in fact than he had been since before that and he thinks Chuck is happier now than he had been too.

Maybe someday the magic would fade. It might even be soon. They were messed up people and nothing was certain. One thing he knew for sure though, was that right now, this thing that’s happening between them, now that he wasn’t running away from it, it felt right.

Even if it’s the most fucked up thing in the world, it felt right. And that was something he hadn’t felt in a long while too.

And besides, maybe they wouldn’t have to worry about the future. After all, they were Chuck Bass and Dan Humphrey.

The fact that they were together at all was probably a sign of the apocalypse.

It’d be one hell of a way to go though.

**The End**


End file.
